Ends and Means, a short story

“I am a beast. A jungle animal. Fit, strong, practical, ruthless. A
machine. A huntress. My sole purpose is to provide for myself. I need, so I take. I stretch languorously on
my worn and faded sheets, appreciating the tool that is my body. What is joy? I
don’t know. It doesn’t matter. Joy is not germane to my life. Getting some new
sheets, now that is something to think about. Wonder who will pay for them?”

My cheeks flushed as I
read the words. Were these really the secret workings of Mara’s mind? I closed
the book and held it in my lap under my desk. I wanted to keep reading, but the
time wasn’t right.

Just then, Mara sailed through the office leaving a trail of
perfume behind her as she tossed her coat on her chair and headed down the hall
to the time clock. While she was gone, I tucked the journal back into her desk
drawer and turned toward the doorway with what I hoped was an innocent look on
my face. Mara was protective of her privacy. She would have been angry beyond
belief had she caught me reading her notes. A moment later, Mara glided into
our shared office carrying her first coffee of the day.

“This is abominable stuff, really vile,” she announced as
she settled delicately into her chair with the grace of a dancer, arranging her
skirt to cover her knees.

“Why do you drink it?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
Mara just lifted her eyebrows and gave me a significant look.

“It’s free.”

“Charlie has called twice already this morning,” I whispered.
“He sounded desperate.” She was obviously screening her calls at home again.

“Ask me if I care,” she said with a distracted air as she
turned on her computer.

I had begun to think perhaps Mara and Charlie were warming
into something steady. I know he thought so, too. He had even paid to fix her
car, and given her money for a portable washing machine (which she still hadn’t
bought). Trying not to sound too preachy or prying, I told her he seemed like a
nice guy.

“Gail.” She turned to look at me with annoyance on her face.
“He is a nice guy. But I don’t care. Don’t turn it into some kind of
enormous tragedy, ok?”

“It is kind of a tragedy,” I said. “He thought you liked
him.”

“It was a means to an end, Gail. That’s all. You’re so naïve
sometimes. You need to grow up.”

I nodded, stung, and busied myself with my first project.
Mara was a mystery to me. We had worked together for months, been out partying,
gone shopping, and done all the things women do together. But, nothing in our
interactions had given me near the glimpse into her thought processes as had my
stealthy peek into her journal.

The silence grew heavy.
But I kept my thoughts to myself.

“Look, Gail,” Mara said, her gaze steady on me. “I know you
like Charlie. Most people do. But I’m finished. Let me illustrate my point. See
that soda bottle on your desk? Will you continue drinking from it after it’s
empty? When you have gotten everything you can from it, will you keep sucking
on it? I don’t think so. To me, Charlie is like that soda bottle.”

Well, that was Mara. Apparently, Charlie had no more to
offer her.

This was a familiar scene. It had played out numerous times
since I met Mara. Some bewildered man or another would call frantically for a
while, or send roses and cards, letters and gifts, but then finally give up in
the end. Dark-eyed, cool and aloof, Mara was unmoved by these gestures. Every
time I thought she had found someone to love, I turned out to be wrong. Poor Charlie, I thought.

Lunchtime rolled around and we walked up the street to the
Mocha Mug. Heads turned as Mara strolled into the coffee shop and tossed her
purse down on the table. With sensuous grace, she removed her coat like a woman
shedding a negligee before sliding into bed with a lover. Her movements held
eyes all over the shop, and the attention stayed with her until she settled
into the chair, signaling the show was over. I wondered if any of the men would
brave the long walk over here and attempt to start a conversation with her. I
could have told them she would be receptive. She always was in the beginning.
This time, however, no one approached and we had the time to ourselves. Mara ignored the significant glances of
interested males as I sat wrapped in my plain Jane anonymity. I hovered far under
the radar when Mara was around.

“Gail,” Mara said. “Let’s go out tonight, have some kicks.
There’s a new bar over on 15th called Kryptic Maze. I want to try
it. There’s no cover charge tonight, some sort of promotional thing.”

“I’ve heard of it. It’s supposed to be some new-age place
with space music and waiters dressed in tunics. I don’t think you’d like it,
but we can go if you want to,” I answered.
“It might have ‘ambiance’.”

Mara chuckled softly. “I don’t give two shits about
ambience. I want to check out the clientele.”

I looked down into my double latte, the usual disappointment
creeping over me. Mara was hunting again,
I thought, looking for a new mark.